


An incident.

by Madame_V



Series: A Series Of Alternate Universe & Cannon Incidents. [1]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Coming Out, First Love, Introspection, M/M, Pre-Slash, Teenlock, The Holmes family is so cute, accepting sexuality, happy endings, in my MIND, positivity, rambles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-23
Updated: 2015-06-23
Packaged: 2018-04-05 20:05:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4193163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madame_V/pseuds/Madame_V
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was all just a terrible misunderstanding that could be explained with his hormones acting up and Greg being just too perfect for just a split second.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An incident.

**Author's Note:**

> Ok, so... I couldn't help myself and I loved the prompt of these two having a little encounter in a teen AU. I have a thing for tutor/pupil dynamics, so what? Either way I really hope you guys like this little introspection and remember to leave comments, I love hearing about you and they do help me stay inspired!
> 
> REMINDER!!!! This piece is specially dedicated to those who didn't have the acceptance they deserved, that got or get questioned about matters of gender and sexuality, this is for my best friend from school, for my sister and her girlfriend, to one of my ex's whom I loved limitlessly and to all those of you that are still struggling. Stay strong and remember you're perfect the way you are, that nature is wise and shouldn't be questioned. Stay positive because many might counter your lifestyle, but it's only yours to enjoy. Be happy because you don't hide your true self, you live every part of your life. Don't hate others, because hate only creates antagonism and destruction, celebrate your love, celebrate your body and let others seethe while you live to the fullest. Stop highlighting differences or letting curses heave on your shoulders and live. Remember you have only one chance to do it right.
> 
> I really hope you guys enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it, you know how I am with my pink glasses and happy endings. <3<3<3<3<3<3

He ran to his home as soon as he got out of the bus, his lungs burned and his nerves were on edge. _Well, done, Mycroft you’ve made a mess of things_ , he thought.

His younger brother ran after him, pushing his shorter legs to catch up with his older brother desperately “Wait, Mycroooft!” he screamed, holding his open backpack to his chest, a mess of papers flying after them. Why couldn’t this boy simply keep order around him?

And Mycroft stopped to catch the young boy in arms, after all, mummy would have his head if he dared leave his sibling on his own “Come on, Sherlock” he urged and they walked fast to the cottage “What happened, Mycroft? Did you fight at the school? Mummy will be angry at us if you-“

Mycroft stopped at the entrance, looking down to the little boy peering up at him with curious, clever eyes. He kneeled and said “Sherlock, remember what I said about voicing your observations?” the boy nodded as Mycroft picked up a paper and put everything in order in his backpack “Well, mummy would be terribly upset to know I fought at this new school. So it is best if you keep it to yourself and I will go out with you to teach you how to pick on those poisonous plants that affected Redbeard last week.”

The boy’s eyes sparkled with glee and he said “Can we bring pieces?”

“Those pieces are called ‘samples’” he said closing the backpack and handing it over to Sherlock “And, we can, for a bit.”

“Samples” parroted Sherlock and entered the house screaming “Redbeard! To the deck! Adventure awaits!” Mummy added to the noise as she screamed from the closed study ‘Micky! Quiet your brother down!’ Apparently her book was keeping her on a mood and even father was a bit scared to get into that room to be torn apart by the greatest mind on Earth.

Not a second after Mycroft winced as he heard a clatter around the washing room as Redbeard ran into the house to find Sherlock. Siger Holmes cursed quietly before screaming ‘Mycroft! The dog snuck in!’ the teen sighed and covered his ears for a brief momen. Right now he could use a quiet walk to clear his thoughts from pressing matters, but he knew that with his boisterous little brother that would be absolutely impossible. So, as expected, he put a hold on his needs yet again.

Why everything surrounding Sherlock had to be so terribly messy? He got into the kitchen as his father loaded the washing machine while Mycroft grabbed a bottle of water and three apples.

The boy in question ran across the hall and at the entrance of the kitchen, Redbeard happily following him, his nails scratching at the floor with each step and he said “Mummy, Mycroft’s taking me to the back yard!” ready to run outside.

“How long will you two be out on this venture?!” she asked from the closed door with light amusement in her tired voice.

Sherlock hummed and said “A hundred moons in the least!”

She laughed and the boy urged the dog to follow outside, Mycroft looked at the overly excited eight year-old leave and then at his father as he entered the kitchen ready to make some tea for his exhausted wife “I believe even our neighbors at the countryside know you two will be out.” Mycroft laughed and put his books on the kitchen table, then filled his backpack with the necessaries for their quest, bags and rubber gloves included “I’ll have my mobile on if you need me” Siger patted his back and watched him walk outside, closing the door behind himself.

He walked after the little tornado that was his brother through a muddy path. They talked about Botany and the benefits of plants, their uses in medicine and Sherlock absorbed Mycroft’s knowledge avidly.

Luckily the Holmes land was vast and even held a small piece of a dense wood, so as they walked into it they found plenty of specimens and Mycroft was only happy to teach Sherlock’s hungry mind all he could remember of each thing they found.

By the end of their walk, the young boy had a full stock of flowers and plants to revise under his microscope and knew exactly how to handle hazardous materials (A.K.A. Poison Ivy). When they were finding their way back home, Mycroft’s phone chimed and, thinking it was their parents urging them to come back, he looked and stopped in his tracks unwilling to carry on and go home.

The lengthy message read ‘ _Micky, we just received a pupil of yours! Greg, a charming young man. He insisted on waiting for you. Come quickly. –Mummy_ ’ and it terrified him to his very core.

 _Oh. God, no_. He thought lifting his pale eyes to the lighted house sitting in the distance, holding his breath, absolutely terrified “Why are you scared?” asked Sherlock and when Mycroft turned his appalled features to look at him “Redbeard noticed” he accused and the dog barked.

Mycroft frowned and shook his head, short, dark-red locks falling around his face “Nothing, Sherlock.” The seventeen year-old’s voice trembled slightly “Mummy’s urging for us to go back home, is all” he said offering Sherlock his hand and the young boy called for Redbeard as they walked around the muddied yard. Sherlock would need a through bath and Mycroft’s trousers would probably need to be burned since he had to take his younger brother out of tight spaces.

But now they walked quietly and Sherlock spoke again “That idiot you are teaching on Wednesdays is here. Did you leave something unseen?” the boy looked up at his big brother in annoyance, neither of the brothers were fond of their space being invaded by strangers, but Greg Lestrade wasn’t one to mind about such details. Of course, all things considered, the 18 year-old teen was known to do hasty things when angered and he was in his right to feel appalled.

All he could do was hope that he hadn't told his mother and father about what had transpired between them that morning “Has that boy done an harm to you?” _Absolutely not. Greg would never harm someone gratuitously for the sake of bullying, he was too noble to do such a thing_ “Is he angry?” _Possibly_ “Are we going in any day soon?” Mycroft blinked at the back door and looked down at his tired looking younger brother's eyes looking up at him sideways “Seriously, brother. It isn't much else than a common boy, what could be affecting you enough to open a door?” _What a clever boy_ , thought Mycroft. _He will be beyond brilliant one day_ , since he is now making all the right questions and daring to read through his older brother.

Mycroft let out a breath, regrouping his thoughts and making a quick plan to separate Greg from his family and getting to talk to the young man alone. He opened the door, handing the backpack to his younger brother as they entered the kitchen “Very well, then you can wash your hands and gloves before diving into a full investigation. Understood?” Sherlock nodded with excitement and saluted their father as they made their way in, followed by the Irish Setter.

The tall auburn haired man kissed Sherlock's head as he passed by excitedly and said “Prepare for bath, Sherlock. Oh, Mycroft, your pupil came to leave something you forgot at your gathering today.” Mycroft hummed distractedly as he put the water bottle away and changed from his muddied trousers to a recently dried pair. His feet were dirty since Sherlock seemed to jump into every puddle he could possibly find in the forest and Mycroft had patiently followed to get him out of trouble, so he put on a pair of old slippers as he listened to his father “He's in the living room with your mother.” the teen simply sighed and looked at the door as he heard mummy giggling.

 _Oh, dear. She knows_ , was all he could possibly think. She had seen him and he must’ve come straight out of practice, so he still bears evidence, he possibly doesn't even have a good enough alibi to be inside this household and she read through him, hence there is no hope... _She knows_. Mycroft walked tall through the kitchen feeling beyond nervous, wrinkled trousers and sweat on his cardigan and shirt.

In a split second, he crafted a plan of action. Separate, contain and eradicate. He could find another tutor for the older boy in matter of moments. After all, there were at least three of his fellow students almost gauging each other’s eyes out to have the chance to do so. Teach the hot captain from the football team, most of them held a foot inside his classroom and the rest of them inside his bed, to beck and call. Mycroft felt a surge of aversion at the idea of the man fading away into other’s claws. It would be that much easier if he wasn’t as likeable, noble and kind as he was, if he wasn’t nearly as clever and full of potential as he was.

The crimson haired teen checked his hair and clothes in the hallway mirror, biting his lips as his pale eyes raked over his colourless, pale, frecklish features _. It was absolutely insane to think he could possibly_ … He looked down and held his breath before walking the last few feet down the hall that would connect him with a ghastly scene: Greg Lestrade and his mother, chatting amicably and holding each a mug of warm tea.

 _Very well, time to set the wheels of his plan in motion, father is preoccupied with dinner and Sherlock with his bath and new acquisitions, so all that was left was to get rid of young Mr. Lestrade and keep mother busy elsewhere_ “Hello” he said and regretted breaking the chatter instantly, since Greg’s dark eyes set upon him and he lost his smile, holding a brief look of astonishment and blushing in a tell-tale manner. Under mummy’s attentive stare too!

“Hiya, Mycroft.” He said getting up and everything about his figure screamed what had happened, Mycroft sighed and placed a hand over his face as he blushed furiously. _Dear God, have mercy_ , he thought noticing the tension in the boys broad shoulders, how he quietly stood as nonchalant as possible and yet held a bland look, one that said too much on past events.

Mummy looked from the boy to her son far from surprised “Ok, I know when I’m a charge. Best if I let you two solve your differences on your own” she got up and as she passed by her son’s side, she placed a hand softly on his shoulder “You and I will have to talk about this sooner or later,  Micky, don’t worry about your father, we love you” she whispered and hugged him dearly. Mycroft let out a breath and his heartbeat threatened to break his ribs. She looked at him with her cerulean eyes, so terribly proud and heartbreakingly happy  that it made him feel beyond ashamed for not saying something sooner.

The three words had been nagging at the back of his mind since he was around 14 years-old, when he first laid eyes on the gardener’s son and he fantasized to kiss the sweet boy breathless, to have his rough hands around him and it had been difficult to make excuses as to why he didn’t have a girlfriend at sixteen ‘I prefer a good book’ had been his answer, and just when he found himself uninterested in the world surrounding him and it became easy to keep himself from any sexual altercations, it was then when Gregory Lestrade appeared. With his humorous retorts and his smiles and his tolerance and his good nature. Of course his handsome looks helped a great deal to tip Mycroft over the edge of a silly fall.

The door closed behind them and the brunette put his hands in pockets “Brilliant woman, your mum. I think I’ve never learnt more about applied maths than in these few seconds than I'd learn in my life…” he smiled and Mycroft pursed his lips in apprehension, crossing his arms before his chest.

“She did teach Advanced Mathematics in Oxford when I was seven, I believe she has adopted a good method.” He sighed and pressed a hand through his hair.

Greg followed the motion with his eyes and raked his eyes over him "You look..." he gaped trying to find the words.

The red-head hummed and said "Indeed, Sherlock seemed to be able to get me into every puddle he could find in the back yard."

Greg's warm smile reached his eyes as Mycroft described the situation he'd been subjected to and scratched the back of his neck, smiling sweetly, his biceps flexing at the motion. Needless to say, successfully diverting Mycroft's attention "Ah, it's been a bit rainy, lately. And he does seem like a handful no matter the weather."

"He is" was all Mycroft said before motioning towards the older teen's seat as he said “Do be seated, we shan’t be bothered in here and I believe you didn’t come all this way to simply talk about the weather and my mother’s ways with education.” Mycroft walked to a chair and sat, brushing past Greg on his way and looking up at him.

With a little less patience the older teen sat down and pressed a hand over his mouth “Well, sorry for trying to be nice” he took his mug again “Why are you so angry, Mike?”

The younger man sat up straight and said “I am far from affected. It just so appears you have outed me to my family.” The football team captain cursed under his breath, looking like a deer caught in the headlights, as all colours were drained from his handsome features “By now even the neighbours might know of my inclinations since my mother has the terrible habit of making each and everything we do public. I will not be able to look into my father’s face for the remaining of the year and I will feel forced to explain to my younger brother!” Mycroft’s voice got louder and angrier. Greg stayed wisely silent, a sorrowful expression upon his eyes and a small merciful smile on his lips. _Blasted, patient boy_ , he thought as he pushed his hair back and sighed, gathering himself again “And all for what?” he snorted.

Greg narrowed his eyes, letting out a chuckle with an estranged look about his face “Christ, Mike. Are you blaming me for being gay? Bloody really? This is beneath you, you do know that. And, FYI, there’s nothing wrong with liking a bloke. It is a bit mindboggling for me, because I’ve never felt things for blokes-“

“Very well,” he interrupted and got up to his full height “that was clear enough. Now you can just leave-“

“Mycroft, sit down and belt up” Greg’s dark eyes pinned him down and they stared at each other defiantly for a few moments. All Mycroft wanted to do was to go to the kitchen and talk this matter out with his parents, when he wasn’t anywhere near ready to come out. Even if he accepted his likes, he did know of his parent’s expectations and even if they would be supportive, it would be far too emotionally exhaustive to see them feel so terribly worried and disappointed at the future that expected their son.

Finally he budged, he sat down trying to make this as short and concise as possible “Fine” he said with venomous spite that didn’t seem to affect the other boy as he smiled brilliantly. When had been the last time that someone had been so delighted to be allowed to spend another minute in his presence? He couldn’t recall and the nature of Greg’s ways was making a mess of his thoughts and experience, he was breaking through inch by painful inch.

“Ok, then. Can we talk like two civilized human beings?” he asked, his doe eyes as big as the room itself and Mycroft didn’t dare open his mouth out of fear of what it might come out of it “I’ll take your silence as a sound ‘yes’, then” he clapped his hands with a smile and sat back, biting his lips in thinking on what to address first obviously “You know I've been looking for you everywhere, right? I mean, I just want to talk to you about what happened.”

Mycroft took everything in, his posture as he sat forward placing his elbows on his knees, eyes hesitantly looking for his and it was so clear it pained him, so he crossed his legs and sat back as he insisted “I don't believe there is anything to discuss.”

Gaping and looking away for moments “You're kidding, right?” he asked with a glazed expression, this conversation was wearing on him “Did I hallucinate you snogging the living daylights out of me this morning at the library?”

Damn, he thought. The reminder was needless, and yes, it felt perfect, heavenly, right and needed, it was all provoked by this strange creature before him too so Mycroft sighed “You did not, no. That certainly did happen. Anyway, before that, we were discussing the history of Britain.” He tried to deflect the subject.

“Yeah, and as interesting as the creation of the British Army is, I'm still a bit confused about the other thing.” Greg gave him a tight smile meant to coerce Mycroft into talking.

The young genius blinked and looked away briefly, gathering his thoughts again, as he said “I kissed you. You were surprised. I thought it best to leave and it was King Charles I, not King James I.” Then he looked down in contemplation as he said “In the end, as usual, I was correct.” He said with a tinge of grief in his words as he regretted ruining what could have been a rather good acquaintanceship.

Greg’s face fell and he pressed a hand to his face as he said “Are you correcting my homework while we talk about you snogging me speechless?” Then he dropped his hands and looked at Mycroft as he opened his mouth to answer “No. Don't answer that. Why did you do that?”

Mycroft looked at the young man looking absolutely bored at his question and simply said “It won't happen again.” firm in his resolve to abdicate his post as a tutor.

“Ah. You're not answering the question, smarty pants.” Greg sat back again and Mycroft’s breath caught at his throat as he could easily name each and every one of the generous muscles that moved under the other man’s fitting t-shirt “I'm sorry if I'm confused, mate, but-“ he paused and pressed his lips into a thin line before it “I thought you hated me.” In a quiet, embarrassed voice.

That was enough to throw Mycroft’s façade absolutely off as he dedicated the man a confused, deadpan look “You thought I hated you.” He took a deep breath and placed a finger on his temple begging to find patience “Excuse me?”

Greg shrugged and looked down at his hands as he said “Yeah. Well, you always find an excuse to insult my intelligence, try to throw me off with the things you say because you think it’d be easy, you disapprove pretty much of every decision I make, be it on the field, with my friends, ex’s… I'm sorry if I thought you weren't fond of me.” He said with a bit of sarcasm in his voice as he rolled his eyes.

They stayed silent for a few moments as Mycroft processed what Gregory had just said. How could this man be so absolutely stupid? How could he be so easily taken by the obvious that he didn’t manage to see beneath the surface? He opened his mouth to give the young man a second chance at thinking “I disapprove of most of the people I meet, and I think you could do far better in each of those categories.” He stated quietly.

“Ta? I guess.” Was the first disappointing thing the brunette said, pressing a hand through his hair, messing the soft spikes into every direction and disarrange shouldn’t be as appealing as it looked “But, first, that's not the way you compliment people and, secondly, you're still deflecting my questions, Mike.” He continued and Mycroft’s heart leaped.

The younger boy sighed and joined his hands as he smiled satisfied “I am not deflecting anything. Your response was clear before and even clearer as you spoke. Now I should go to do my homework and my father probably has dinner ready-” he started getting up when Greg got up with him.

“Response? I didn't have the time to bloody respond.” The man was slightly shorter only by two inches but still at this distance, Mycroft was forced to look down. It was a futile war between them, everything about this conversation looked bleak and forced as Mycroft tried to find solace and Greg insisted in speaking of a matter that had clearly struck him, repelled him “You just looked at your clock and left for another tutoring session with an upper 8th as you sent me off to practice. I received the ball with my face three times thanks to you!” Mycroft blinked in surprise and imagined Greg completely distracted running around the pitch, then he let out a quiet chuckle “Not funny” responded the young man with a smile on his own features.

Sighing and placing a hand on his waist, Mycroft leaned back gaining space between them and said “I saw your face for a moment. After the... incident, shall we say. It spoke volumes to me and I believe if we simply leave amicably on each other’s way. I can find you another tutor by tomorrow evening and-”

“Mike” Greg interrupted and took a step forward “Do you do this with your other students? Is this one of your mind games? Because it isn't funny.” Greg was crossing his arms in apprehension and looking up worried.

It could be so easy to lie to him and let the young man hate him, but he was affected enough to think he would simply stop breathing if that were to happen. So he soldiered on and appealed to honesty “This was an isolated incident.” He said quietly “A very isolated incident. It has never happened before, as it so happens, and I'm terribly sorry for upsetting you. Let me arrange for another tutor for you.”

“Can you stop trying to get rid of me?” he asked with a small smirk and sighed taking a step back and placing a hand on his chin before saying “I was baffled, Mike. You know what people say about you all Honor Student and too perfect for the world surrounding you. I thought you didn't do that and you didn't like me. So there's why I looked like I did. For future reference it would be along the lines of 'confused as fuck'.”

“I wasn't aware that people thought of me as a haughty perfectionist” the crimson haired teen looked to the floor and added “Usually people think of me as an emotionless freak with an unspecified sense of superiority.” Then he sighed and looked up, crossing his arms defensively and said “Very well. Interesting enough. You aren't offended?”

Greg snorted "They might also say you're a bit of a prick, I tend to agree when you correct my grammar.” Mycroft rolled his eyes, it wasn’t a crime to defend proper English and the footie player placed a hand on his shoulder. Tilting Mycroft's entire world and making him blush madly, aware on how there was only a cardigan and a thin, cotton shirt between the brunette's skin and his. He wanted to bury his face in a pillow and scream on how lewd the thought was, instead he hummed and denied the older teen of eye contact “But, no, I'm not offended, Mike. And it would help if you told me why did you feel like snogging me. It’s always better to hear it from the horse’s mouth, you know.”

He sighed and indulged in saying it out loud. For the first time, like he hadn’t with Fred when he was at the tender age of fourteen “I wanted to snog you because I am romantically attracted to you, of course.” He admitted with a grim tone.

Greg nodded biting his lips distractedly, the very habit that had provoked him to pull the teen that morning at the library and kiss him, it had been something beyond his control, because the teeth worrying at that lower lip were calling loudly “In short words: you're in love with me” Greg’s voice broke his trance and he looked up to find dark eyes trained on his pale ones “You didn't want to see what happens, toss me for a spin, see how I'd react.”

Mycroft frowned and took another step back, his calves now touching the rim of the chair he had been occupying “I am not so callous.” He said.

“True. But you are eerily clever and horribly bored 90% of the time” Greg said it without scorn, simply looking at him as if the fact was a long since accepted truth “Ok. If you'll do it again, just try to warn me first, yeah? Almost gave me a bloody heart attack and I was shite in the field.” Mycroft blinked repeatedly as the other teen grabbed his team’s jacket and pulled it on.

He gaped and said “I won't do it again, as I said. You were thrown, and you did not enjoy it.” Following after the young man as he walked to the hall and entrance door. The younger man had been completely thrown off by Greg’s lack of warning, or reaffirmation of his sexuality.

As they reached the door Greg shrugged and Mycroft stood on the inside as he said “Too bad, I'm always in for a snog with a handsome bloke. This time I just didn't really believe it was happening. We do have a bit of chemistry,” The only way to describe that smile was ‘bewitching’, Mycroft needed someone to slap some sense into him, because it seemed his wit had left him entirely “but I didn't think it'd stir the... What you say? Emotionless bloke?” he enquired.

“I believe I said emotionless freak, actually.” He commented frowning in utter confusion “Not that I prefer that term. I am not emotionless, I am simply... restrained. I try not to do things like this.”

“Restrained, huh?” and there was a light in the back of Greg’s eyes full of promise, highlighted in his smile “And why me, then?”

Mycroft’s pale eyes stayed trained on Greg’s features reading through him, striving to find the turn, the trick, the punchline “It wasn't a rational decision, granted.” he said quietly.

The teen laughed and nodded “It never is, Mike. Then you won't mind if I try kissing you while you talk about King Charles I, then?” he asked, almost timidly.

Mycroft felt he would pass out at any moment now, this was beyond shocking “That wouldn't be horribly unwelcome, no.” he said.

The older boy stood quiet for a peinful ammount of three minuted and looked around. _He's considering_ , thought Mycroft not believing his eyes, _he knows I haven't come out and careful for it, but he's considering_. The older boy bit his lower lip again, sighing through his nose, then dedicated a helpless look to the taller boy, with a loopsided smilehe took a few steps back and headed for his car saying “Good to know. Then when are we having our next meeting?”

The crimson haired teen shrugged nonchalantly, leaning on the door frame and said “Whenever you need tutoring.”

Greg stopped at the front gate “I'm awfully confused about that James I you were talking about.”

The younger teen rolled his eyes and sighed “Charles, not James. I will see you then.” He got up, feeling his heart lighter and suddenly full of confidence once again.

“That one too” said Greg and Mycroft snorted lifting a hand in salute “Tomorrow at 3.30? Same booth at the library?” he said cocking his head, making the younger man feel the urge to close the distance and shock the older man again.

Instead he turned and said “Until then, Gregory.” The footballer beamed and Mycroft closed the door, leaning on it, wearing a small smirk. He waited for the exact amount of ten minutes until Greg started the car and left.

Mycroft stayed in place, feeling the chilly breeze seeping under the door on his ankles. Noble, kind Gregory Lestrade had just made a smooth display on how he would be absolutely interested in kissing him again, he did imply that he might be the one to initiate things in the future. Somewhere inside Mycroft’s mind there was the nagging thought that went against all of his observations ‘He’s not truly interested, he’s simply toying with you for his grades’ and most of him begged to allow himself a glimpse of hope. That this gorgeous, radiant young man would actually find him attractive.

Because coming out didn’t have to be so terribly bad, perhaps he had seen one too many dramatic movies on the matter and he had discriminated himself before anyone else did. His mother did give him a longer hug than necessary before bed and his father did sit down with him as he did his homework to awkwardly talk about his plans for the future and remind him he could always find support in his family. In the end he did request to be the one to talk to Sherlock on the matter of sexuality if he asked. So far, the boy claimed he didn’t know there was only one way to have a partner, he insisted repeatedly that he would marry his little friend, John and he still believed he would, so explaining the difference and reality when the questions came falling down wouldn’t be too difficult.

And as to what concerned Greg after their heated discussion and flirtatious exchange, the text he sent once he was at his own house later that night, spoke volumes.

_‘Sorry if I was too forward. I haven’t looked at blokes before. But, just so you know, I fancy you too. GL’_

And it was ok. It was enough. If Greg, straight as an arrow as he had been, a true stallion of the football team, could indulge in romantic attachments with the same sex without thinking too much about it. Then, why wouldn’t he just accept it? There was a reason why the only three times he had felt attracted to someone it was a man, there was a reason why Greg’s chapped, bare lips were more enticing than a girl’s cherry lips.

He's gay and it's perfectly ok.

**-**

**C'est fini.**

**Author's Note:**

> I'm seriously considering making this into a multichapter... Hmm -_- what do you guys think?


End file.
